“It is all my fault,” said Frank. “I might have warned you.”
“Don’t worry over it,” returned Uncle Dick, quickly. “There’s no one to blame except myself. If I had told you to put the boys on their guard against Mack, you would have done so. You fellows, who are on watch, keep your eyes open, and see that we don’t lose any more horses and guns, and the rest of us will go to sleep again.”
Eugene thought this was taking matters very coolly, but after all he did not see that there was anything else to be done. Mack was mounted on a fleet horse and had a good long start; and besides he was so well acquainted with the country that he could have escaped if there had been an army in pursuit of him. He was gone, and there was an end of the matter.
The boys were gloomy enough the next morning, but Uncle Dick was as cheerful as usual. He aroused the Kaffirs at daylight and ordered them to drive the oxen out to graze, while the boys, having turned the horses loose, began the work of packing up. The Kaffirs obeyed very sullenly, and the old sailor saw plainly enough that the trouble with his hired help was only just beginning. They drove the oxen out, and contrary to his usual custom, the cook went with them. They passed pretty close to their employer, who saw their spear-heads sticking out from under one side of their cloaks, while the other was bulged out as if the wearers were carrying something under their left arms. He suspected the truth at once, but said nothing, and smoked his morning pipe as serenely as though everything was working to his entire satisfaction.
“Where in the world is that cook?” exclaimed Eugene about an hour later, after the tent had been struck and all the camp equipage packed away in the wagon. “I don’t see any preparations for breakfast.”
“Neither do I,” said Uncle Dick. “Perk, you used to act as ship’s cook in the Banner once in a while; suppose you show us what you can do in that line now. Yes,” he added, in reply to the inquiring looks that were directed toward him, “we’re deserted.”
The boys dropped their work and gazed at one another in speechless astonishment. At first they could hardly realize what the words meant. They felt a good deal as shipwrecked mariners must feel when they find themselves tossing about in the waves in an open boat with not a point of land or a friendly sail in sight.
“From this time forward we must do the best we can by ourselves,” continued the old sailor, cheerfully. “The Griquas here will show us the way to their country, and when we have sold them everything there is in the wagon that they want, we’ll hire some of them to guide us back to the coast.”
“And when we get there, if we ever do, I for one shall be ready to start for home,” declared Walter.
“Oh, don’t get gloomy over it. Some of you have been in worse situations than this.”